The Magnet Theory
by Araven14
Summary: Because we all know that opposites attract. Seven oneshots for Yullen week of winter 2010.
1. Yearn

**No doubt you all thought I'd died or something similar as I have been inactive for so long; well, you're close. My muse curled up and died, and in writing these oneshots for Yullen Week of winter 2010, I'm sort of hoping that I might be able to revive it. Or something.**

**Okay, before I get started, I should probably warn you that most of these are quite weird, even by my normal standards, so have fun with that. They'll probably go AU, canon, AU, canon and so on. Therefore, this oneshot is in an AU setting.**

**Day one, prompt one: Yearn**

* * *

Before the story begins, it should be made known that Ailen Cerddwr**(1)**, son of Neah Cerddwr, first in line to the throne of Fourteenth Fey Court, was _not_ stalking the human Kanda Yuu.

He couldn't help it, after all, if the human happened to come to _his_ meadow in order to meditate. Nor was it truly his fault if the human was not gifted with the Sight – Ailen could study him in as much detail for as long as he pleased, and the human was none the wiser. And, well, if the human Kanda Yuu happened to be exceptionally beautiful, by both mortal and faerie standards, then Ailen wasn't to blame, after all.

Timcanpy, a young fire sprite, alighted on the palm of Ailen's hand, chirping angrily at him. His golden body was light and insubstantial, like smoke. Timcanpy's tail wrapped around Ailen's little finger, and he shook his tiny fist in Ailen's direction. The fey prince rolled his eyes, brushing strands of long, silver hair behind his ear. Liquid mercury eyes followed Kanda Yuu's progress as he spun in dizzying circles, his sword slicing the air. Ailen sighed slightly, watching the beads of sweat as they trailed down Kanda's flawless skin. Tim sighed and tutted in exasperation, fluttering away.

_Lunge. Attack. Block. Counter. _The pattern was as familiar to Ailen as the tattoos that traced over his own pale skin, as the melodies the Fourteenth Court so enjoyed dancing to, as the songs of the nixies and the beautiful creations of the dwarves. A small, delicate smile graced the prince's face as he watched the mortal, his gloriously human features set with concentration.

Kanda was completely unaware of Ailen's presence, continuing with his daily routine just as he had always done. For the thousandth time, Ailen considered revealing himself, or luring the human into Fourteenth territory.

_Breathe in. Breathe out._ Ailen matched the rhythm of his breaths to Kanda's, the sound of their melodies so perfectly in tune the most soothing lullaby Ailen could possibly imagine.

Ailen wasn't quite sure when he had fallen in love with Kanda, but he decided that it hardly mattered. He had happily spent hours, days even, watching his human go about his mortal life – the thought of that ageing, fading, dying, filled Ailen with an emptiness he hadn't realised that he was capable of. It made him feel startlingly fragile – terrifyingly mortal. He was only sixteen; still a child by human and faerie standards alike. As long as he was not murdered by some other fey creature, Ailen still had thousands of years ahead of him. Kanda was eighteen – he had about another seventy years, at best.

Ailen perched in the branches of an old rowan tree, resting his chin in his palm with a wistful sigh. Kanda still had no idea that he even existed, and he could not reveal himself without putting them both in danger. Today, Kanda was meditating after he finished his physical training – he sat cross legged on the floor with his palms resting on his knees and his sword sat beside him. Ailen took the opportunity to drift closer, his passing barely marked by the movement of flowers and grasses beneath his feet.

Up close, Kanda's hair looked even softer, smoother and Ailen longed to braid it with flowers and pearls, even onyx. It was long, as long as Ailen's own and he wore it down today. Ailen reached behind his own head to pull the ribbon loose so that his silver hair fell about his shoulders in mimicry of Kanda's. He wanted to lie down with Kanda and spread their hair around them, to see the contrast of colours in the afternoon sunshine. Ailen sighed once more, his gentle breath disturbing Kanda's hair slightly.

Deep blue eyes flickered open, clouded by confusion as Kanda stared around for someone who – in his mind at least – didn't exist. Ailen remained perfectly still as Kanda's perfect, clear eyes stared right through him, only daring to breathe again once those eyes were hidden by pale eyelids once more. He held out his arm against Kanda's, so close that they were almost touching, that he could feel the warmth that radiated from the human's body, staring at the difference in skin tone. Kanda was pale by Japanese standards, but compared to him, Ailen looked almost wraithlike. His skin was near-transparent, the deep blue veins all-too visible. It made him feel almost sick, and he wondered if that was because he was suddenly seeing himself from a mortal perspective. Would he feel this way had he never seen Kanda? Would he still think himself a freak, a monster?

Ailen wasn't sure anymore.

In the times Kanda had come to this meadow, Ailen had taken great pains to memorise everything about him. From the strong curve of his jaw – so unlike Ailen's own rounded, somehow angular face – to the exact shade of midnight blue of his eyes when they caught the light – so very different to Ailen's startlingly silver gaze.

A sudden, shrill noise made Ailen leap backwards, his entire body tensing as though for a fight. The segments of his armour slid smoothly over one another, reminding him for a moment that he was supposed to be checking the eastern border for any signs of the solitary fey he'd been warned were in the area – pitiful level twos that he could destroy with his bare hands.

Kanda scoffed angrily, reaching into one of his pockets – ingenious little things that Ahlen had never been able to get over – and pulling out a little handheld phone. It was strange, Ailen reflected, how the shortened lives of mortals made them so incredibly inventive – they had little time on the Earth, so they found (or made) ways to make everything go faster, to allow them to do as much as possible in their miniscule life-spans.

"Heya, Yuu-chan!" Cried a voice down the phone, and Ailen recognised it as belonging to Kanda's red-haired friend. Kanda scowled; Ailen couldn't help but think that the expression was beautiful on Kanda's stern features.

"Tch. What do you want, Lavi?" Kanda asked, and Ailen sighed wistfully, imagining for a moment that that smooth, rich voice would speak his name – Ailen didn't even care what sort of emotion would be behind the words. He just wanted Kanda to acknowledge his existence, no matter how small and seemingly insignificant that acknowledgment may be.

"Is there someone there with you, Yuu-chan?" Lavi asked suddenly, and Ailen froze. Had the red-haired human Lavi heard him? It was impossible surely – but then, Ailen had heard rumours that humans with red hair were more likely to develop the Sight, and while Lavi had not seen him the one time Ailen had encountered him, that didn't mean that he hadn't grown into the Sight over time. Stranger things had been known to happen.

"Of course not, baka usagi. Now what did you want?" Kanda snapped, shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. What a strange habit, Ailen mused. Must be a human thing.

"My car broke down again, d'you think you could come get me?" He asked, and Ailen's heart ached at the easy familiarity in Lavi's voice. He would never be able to speak to Kanda like that, and he knew it.

"Tch, whatever," Kanda said dismissively, closing the phone with a _snap_, but nonetheless, he stood up and headed towards the edge of the clearing, sword in hand. Ailen walked beside him until they reached the trees, and a delighted smile spread across his face as Kanda paused and turned around slowly, seeming to look for something. Ailen hoped that it was him.

Perhaps he was imagining it, but he thought he saw the same longing, the same _yearning_ in Kanda's eyes as was always present in his own.

"Whatever."

* * *

**(1) - What can I say? I wanted something that sounded a bit more fey. Ailen is an alternative spelling of Allen, and Cerddwr is (according to Google Translate) Welsh for Walker.**

**See you tomorrow for prompt number two!**


	2. Bittersweet

**Hello again peoples! Day two of Yullen week, and I feel like shit. I always get ill during holidays and stuff, so I'm just hoping that I'll be okay for Christmas. Maybe a review would make me feel better?**

**Explanation time - considering today's prompt, I thought that lots of people are going to go with the whole angsty thing. Which is great; I love angst. I just suck at writing it. So, I decided to go in the other direction and try to produce something lighthearted.**

**Day two, prompt two: Bittersweet**

* * *

In his lifetime, the Bookman junior, currently known by his forty-ninth alias Lavi, had sampled many delicacies from countries all around the world; however, he had never found one quite as refreshingly perfect as a glass of Jerry's special, homemade iced lemonade. It was particularly wonderful, he found, when it was savoured on especially hot days such as the one he was currently suffering. It was perfect – the bite of the lemons beautifully complemented by the sweetness of the sugar, all held together by a squeeze of lime – Jerry's 'super secret special ingredient'.

Lavi smiled happily to himself, taking another sip as a distant part of his analytical mind registered the outbreak of yet another argument between Allen-chan and Yuu-chan. Something about Allen sitting too close to Kanda while they were eating; Lavi just smirked. Those two embodied the perfect blend of bitter and sweet.

The tension between the two of them was enough to drive anybody mad within seconds of entering their presence, but Lavi held firmly to the belief that he had been insane for a number of years; things were far more interesting that way.

"Shut up, moyashi!"

"Make me, baKanda!"

Such things were surprisingly common occurrences, and to the extent of Lavi's rather extensive knowledge, the two of them had managed to cause a number of breakdowns amongst the scientist and Finders with their constant bickering. As well as their near-constant fighting. And sparring (which was, in fact, Allen-and-Kanda-speak for 'attempting to kill one another without Central and – perhaps more terrifyingly – Komui breathing down our necks').

In fact, now that Lavi thought about it, those two spent an awful lot of time together.

Now that was just not right. For his two bestest buds to be hanging out without the awesomeness that was him. Then again, he was technically supposed to be in the library helping out Gramps, so maybe it was a good thing that he wasn't getting involved. In the middle of their fights was the most dangerous (and therefore most exciting, though many people thought Lavi crazy when he pointed it out) place to be – there was no such thing as the eye of the hurricane for those two.

"Geez you two, if there's that much unresolved sexual tension between you, surely you can find a more constructive use for it than fighting like a cat and dog?" He grumbled, just loud enough for the now-brawling pair to hear.

Both of them immediately turned the full force of their combined-Kanda-Allen-twin-glare-of-terror-inducing-evil on him. Used to it and no longer bothered by its paralysing effects, Lavi chuckled and rolled his eye, standing up to leave, completely oblivious to the furtive glances the two were exchanging.

Lavi sighed, picking up his glass to take with him – Jerry wouldn't mind, he was sure, and Gramps didn't care what he did as long as he got his work done. Idly, he stirred the drink with his straw, wondering how long Gramps would keep him cooped up in the library before he was allowed to go out again. However long it took, it would no doubt feel like forever; the stuff Gramps gave him to copy out and record was so dry it made the Sahara look like a swimming pool. Why couldn't he ever get the exciting stuff?

The library was dark and quiet when he got there; Lavi spent a few minutes wandering around and lighting the lanterns that were scattered about haphazardly. Taking a seat near the back in one of his favourite armchairs, Lavi carefully sorted through the stacks of documents, arranging them by year, month date and then alphabetically within that frame.

Grabbing the fountain pen that lay oh-so innocently on the table, Lavi began his wrist-breaking work.

* * *

Lavi wasn't quite sure what had woken him – maybe it was the smell of the ink that was smudged over the left half of his face (Gramps would kill him for that later _and_ make him rewrite the records from scratch, no doubt) or perhaps it was the fact that his head had just dropped off of the thick book it had been resting on when he twitched in his sleep. The lamps had all burned out, throwing the room into darkness, so it may have been that. No matter the cause, however, Lavi was awake and that was that.

Then again, it could have been the rather sudden opening of the door and the hushed whispers that drifted past curious ears.

"Are you sure there's no one in here?" Asked a voice that Lavi quickly identified as Kanda's, and the Bookman apprentice frowned – why would Kanda, of all people, come to the library? And with someone else; everyone knew exactly how anti-social he was.

"The only people who ever come in here are Lavi and Bookman – Bookman's in the cafeteria, and Lavi was in here hours ago, so he'll be long finished by now."

Well, well. Little Allen was with Kanda on a shady escapade in the darkened library? Kanda wasn't complaining, nor did it sound as though they were at one another's throats again. Now _this_ was something for the records.

Lavi's eye widened as he listened intently – there was the sound of heavy breathing every so often, the rustle of clothes and what sounded almost like... like two people _kissing_. No, that wasn't right, surely. There was no way _Kanda_ and _Allen_ would... would... Then again hadn't he himself said that the unresolved tension between them could be used more constructively? He just hadn't expected them to actually, really, seriously _listen_ to him. They never normally did.

He could hear it when they broke apart, their breathing uneven. Lavi held his own breath, though he doubted they could hear him either way.

"About what Lavi said earlier... Do you think he knows?" Allen asked softly, and Lavi could just picture the expression on his face. He could almost hear the cogs turning in Kanda's head as he thought about the question.

"I doubt it. He would've confronted us by now. Even if he does know, it shouldn't matter – he's supposed to be unbiased, remember?" Kanda said, his voice surprisingly soft and... calm. It wasn't a tone Lavi had ever heard from the other boy – he wondered briefly if it was a tone that Kanda reserved specially for Allen, to comfort the younger boy. The conversation was so far removed from their vicious fights and arguments that Lavi began to wonder if he was still asleep and dreaming – or, at least, if he was hearing things.

Lavi tried to block out the soft moans from the other side of the room and he had to bite his lip against a relieved sigh when Kanda finally muttered something about going to his room. Waiting silently until the door swung shut and he could no longer hear their hurried footsteps, Lavi let out a great shuddering breath and scrubbed at his eye with his fists before a wicked grin spread slowly over his face.

Kanda and Allen, hm?

* * *

The next day, Lavi waited patiently in the cafeteria at lunchtime, waiting for the arrival of his two bestest buddies. They had been 'training' (though Lavi had his suspicions about what had really occurred – no one dared interrupt those two anymore, so it was the perfect cover story, right?) so they would have to come by and refuel sometime, surely? He stirred his lemonade thoughtfully as he waited for the two.

Eventually they arrived, flushed and in total disarray; Lavi wondered how his keen bookman senses had never picked up on all of the subtle clues before. They had all been there – it seemed that everyone at the Black Order (including himself) were quite blind.

They sat down opposite him – Kanda with his soba and Allen with twenty or so plates stacked high with food.

"Say Allen, that's a pretty nasty bruise on your neck; how'd ya get that?" Lavi asked casually, indicating what was quite clearly a bite mark on the side of Allen's neck; his high collar didn't manage to hide it from Lavi's keen eye. Allen shifted uneasily, a slightly nervous smile spreading across his face whilst Kanda stiffened almost unnoticeably next to him.

"I think Kanda managed to catch me with his elbow when we were sparring – he can be pretty rough, you know?" Allen said, his pitch and tone off ever so slightly; had Lavi not been looking for it he never would have noticed the difference. The kid was a gifted actor, he'd give him that much.

"Mhm," Lavi replied, his eye twinkling with a knowing glint. Allen swallowed nervously and took another bite of food. "Maybe you should go to the Nurse, have her take a look at it." Allen choked, and Kanda thumped his back a couple of times. Was that a concerned expression, Lavi wondered. A downward turn of the mouth, perhaps, a crease between his eyebrows?

"No! It's nothing to worry about, I'm sure," he said, and chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with a gloved hand. Lavi thought he saw him glance at Kanda, but the look they shared was so brief that Lavi didn't have time to decipher it.

He was silent for the rest of the meal, watching with the smallest of smirks as the two bickered like an old married couple, not missing the way their hands always remained beneath the table – how cute! Yuu-chan was holding hands with Allen.

"Shut up, moyashi!"

"Make me, baKanda!"

Lavi just smiled and took another sip of his lemonade.

Ah. Bittersweet indeed.


	3. Frozen tears

**This is one of the longer oneshots, though it definitely isn't one of my favourites. It's... kind of blah, I guess. I wanted to try a different genre, so I thought, 'why not attempt to improve your angst writing skills?' So, that's what I did. I also decided to take the frozen tears thing literally rather than metaphorically so that I could play around with AU. It was fuuuun~**

**Day three, alternate prompt: Frozen (tears)**

* * *

Kanda had never wanted to get married, much less to Lenalee Lee, Duchess-to-be of the Nacitav**(1)** province, sole daughter of Duke Komui. Then again, Kanda had never wanted to do many things, all of which he had been made to do nonetheless. It seemed that when it came to his family's wellbeing, Kanda wasn't given much of a choice.

Then again, when he considered that his entire family might face starvation if he didn't agree, then he thought that maybe, just this once, he would agree without complaint.

It made him feel better to learn that Lenalee Lee was just as reluctant to enter the engagement as he was. He rather suspected that a certain redheaded rabbit might have something to do with that, but he couldn't be certain without asking awkward questions; and quite frankly, he didn't care that much. However, neither of them had been given any say in the matter; their engagement was finalised, and all that remained the wedding itself– oh, how Kanda despised that thought.

It seemed that he was not the only one; Lenalee would cringe whenever the subject was mentioned, and Duke Komui would begin to chuckle in a manner that could only be described as evil.

Desperately, Lenalee thought of gifts that should have been impossible to find; anything she could think of that might delay the wedding by another week, another month. Gift after gift was imagined and then found or created, and as the day grew closer Lenalee grew more and more panicked, before finally deciding to ask for the one thing she knew Kanda could never give to her.

"You wish for me to bring you the crown of the Ice King?" Kanda asked with a frown. Surely she knew that that was just a legend; travellers returned from the Black Mountains**(2)** telling warped, garbled tales of a city made of ice ruled by a king who was as cold and frozen as the lands he governed. It was all pure nonsense, the crown especially – really, why would anyone want a crown made from ice and diamonds? Wouldn't it just melt away in the summer?

"Until the crown is mine, I will not marry you," Lenalee replied stubbornly, her gaze flicking ever so briefly towards Lavi who stood in the corner of the room with his hand politely folded, eye serious and intense. Kanda sighed but nodded, ignoring the horrified gasp of his adopted father and the gleeful grin of Duke Komui.

"Fine."

* * *

"Yuu-kun, you surely cannot be serious! Think about this! Those mountains are a death-trap, an accident waiting to happen! Please reconsider, Yuu-kun, you do not need to do this!" Tiedoll was pleading with him, his voice a never-ending whine that was just irritating Kanda more than he cared to admit.

"Che, and if I do not, then what will you do, huh? I cannot marry Lenalee unless I find this crown for her, and if I fail then we will all starve. At least this way I'm trying to do something." Kanda scowled as an all-too familiar arm was slung over his shoulder, and an excited voice filled his ears.

"Isn't this great, Yuu? Two friends, off on a fantastic adventure, worthy of the greatest ballads!"

"Idiot, let go of me! And do you even know what a ballad is, you fucking moron?" Kanda growled furiously, glaring at Lavi and shrugging him off as he stormed towards the door, the redhead bouncing along behind him. "Why are you even coming with me? Should you not be staying here to do, oh I don't know, _your job_?"

"Well, I have to make sure that you do not die on those mountains, Yuu! Someone has to take care of you, after all. You are not immortal, you know," Lavi reminded him, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

"I know."

* * *

It had always been something of a mystery as to how the Black Mountains had earned their name – they were covered so thickly in snow that it was impossible to be sure what colour they truly were. Sculpted by the icy wind and punishing snow, they rose almost vertically in places, whilst in others they leant at impossible angles.

"Yuu! We cannot keep going like this!" Lavi called over the howling wind. Kanda scowled but didn't slow his pace, carving a path through the waist-deep snow. "Do you even know where we are going? Yuu!"

Kanda didn't bother to even honour that with a reply – of course he didn't know where they were going. No one knew the location of the Ark (as the ice city was commonly referred to as) so he couldn't simply check the map. Apart from that, there were almost no landmarks visible in the thick blizzard, so how the usagi expected him to know where they were was beyond him.

Kanda tripped over something; unable to regain his balance fast enough in the thick snow and wind, he fell to his knees, his hand brushing against something hard. Grateful that he was wearing gloves, he brushed the snow away from the mound, freezing when he uncovered another hand – one that was already decomposing, despite the ice and snow that probably should have preserved it. He turned his face away when he saw the locket clenched tightly in the corpses fist; it must have been something very important to the dead person.

He stood to walk away, but something drew his gaze back towards the body; grumbling under his breath about how the usagi must be starting to infect him with insanity, he bent down to pick it up, prying the thing open with numb fingers. Inside was a portrait of a man and a young child, both laughing, with an inscription on the inside of the lid.

_For my dear son, Allen Walker, on his birthday. _

"Yuu, I think we should take cover and wait until morning!" Lavi called, and Kanda hastily shoved the locket into the pocket of his overcoat. He was about to give a swift and biting reply when he realised that Lavi was probably right; he could barely see his hand in front of his face. There was no possibility of them finding the city in such conditions, so Kanda reluctantly shouted back his agreement.

The cave they found was almost as cold as the outside world, but it sheltered them from the wind and snow; the floor was mostly dry and Kanda threw down his bedroll, curling up and shutting his eyes immediately, though sleep had a habit of evading him.

"G'night Yuu," Lavi said, and Kanda grunted in response.

His last thought was that the temperature was not nearly as bad as he had previously believed.

* * *

When Kanda eventually woke up, he was wrapped beneath numerous thick furs in a large bed he did not recognise – the pale walls shone under strange blue lights that did not flicker like candles or lamps. Instead, they hovered steadily, casting an eerie glow about the room. Slowly, Kanda sat up, one hand held to his head as he tried to remember how he had come to be here. As he moved, however, he noticed a small piece of thick, off-white parchment resting on the furs; he picked it up curiously, unfolding it to reveal a letter written in hasty print.

_When you awake, it would be in your best interest if you were to remain in your chambers until you are sent for; please feel free to call upon one of the servants should you require anything that has not already been provided for you._

_Tyki Mikk._

Kanda snorted derisively – just who did this Tyki Mikk character think he was? He swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing still for a moment to make sure that his legs would still support his weight before he strode to the door and threw it open, stepping out into the corridor and staring around in thinly-veiled wonder. The walls, the doors – everything, it seemed, was made entirely of ice. Elaborately carved sculptures and archways decorated the corridor whilst similar floating lights provided sufficient illumination between the windows. Cautiously, Kanda stepped forward to peer out, his jaw falling slack at the sight of the city.

The _Ark_. It really existed.

A shrill scream interrupted his train of thought, and Kanda spun around sharply, his right hand automatically reaching for Mugen before he realised that it wasn't there – he cursed furiously, not pausing to glare at the young girl who was bouncing on the balls of her feet, a gleeful expression on her face. Mugen wasn't anywhere to be found in his chambers either, and he stormed out of the room, the anger rolling off of him so strong that it was a miracle the city was not melting.

"Tyki never told me there was a human here! That meanie, he always keeps secrets from me!" The girl squealed excitedly, skipping forward to pull Kanda into a swift and surprisingly strong embrace. "My name is Rhode Kamelot, but you can just call me Rhode, everyone does! Oh, you have to come with me and meet the rest of my family, it has been so long since we had a human guest – this way, this way," she said, dragging him forward by the hand, chattering excitedly all the while. "Have you seen the King yet? Wait, of course you haven't, he would have said something to us! This is so exciting, I haven't had a new doll in ages!"

"That's because you always break them, Rhode," drawled a voice, and a man with the same darkened skin as the girl stepped out from behind an arch, his clothing utterly impeccable. His voice was deep and rich, his tone amused. "And you. I believe I specifically instructed you to remain in your room?"

Kanda snorted. "Tch, as if I was going to pay attention to someone I had never met before, baka."

The man – Tyki, Kanda assumed – smirked. "No? Well you will soon come to wish that you had; come on, Rhode, we will go and find his companion, as he too has no doubt started to explore. We are taking them to see the King."

* * *

"My Lord, this morning, two humans were found near the fourteenth gate – shall we bring them before you?" Tyki asked, his accented voice carrying easily through the thick, ice door. The reply wasn't at all what Kanda had been expecting – he had thought that the voice of the Ice King would be as cruel and cold as the name suggested. Instead, it was soft and high, as well as curiously emotionless.

"Very well, Tyki. Bring them in."

Kanda and Lavi were shoved forward by their 'guards', a set of incompetent twins who liked to combine their names into one. Their grey skin seemed slightly darker than Tyki or Rhode's, and they spent the majority of their time fighting and bickering with one another.

"Here they are, hee!" The blond one giggled, shoving Lavi forward whilst the dark haired one pushed Kanda so hard that he stumbled, finding his footing at the last second. There was a slight pause before he lifted his head to glare at the person sitting in the carved throne. Dark blue eyes met empty silver, and Kanda's gaze almost faltered when he realised just how young the King was. In fact, he didn't look to be any older than perhaps fifteen. His hair was pure white as was his skin – in fact, the only colour was the presence of his deep blue clothing; a stark contrast to the pale surroundings.

Two tear-shaped crystals clung to his cheeks, and atop the mass of white hair rested the Godforsaken crown that Kanda had come all of this way to retrieve – it was truly a thing of beauty, each diamond carved in mimicry of the crystals on the King's face. His face was blank, emotionless, as was his voice when he spoke.

"What brings you here?" He asked, though he lacked all semblance of curiosity.

"I need that fucking crown of yours, so maybe you could hand it over and let us go, and we will never bother you again," Kanda growled. A soft whine drew his attention to the white wolf resting at the boy's feet, head resting against his knees. The boy murmured some soft assurance to the beast before returning his gaze to Kanda.

"I am afraid I cannot comply with your request. Only the Ice King may bear the crown. That is the way it has always been, and the way it must remain."

"Then maybe it is about time that changed. You know, rules are made to be broken, and all that," Lavi suggested helpfully, bravely holding his ground when the Ice King turned his strangely distant gaze upon him. The wolf growled low in its throat, and the King smoothed its head gently.

"Hush, Timcanpy. They are our guests, despite their intentions." He slowly turned his attention back to Kanda and Lavi. "You have travelled far, but I am afraid your journey was in vain. Now you have a choice; you may stay here in the Ark, or return to your home – I will leave the decision to you. It makes no difference to us."

With that, he stood and walked away; pausing only to pull a long, fur-lined white cloak on before he strode out of the room, the hem of the cloak dragging on the floor. Tyki turned to Lavi and Kanda with raised eyebrows as though silently repeating the King's final statement.

There was no doubt in Kanda's mind.

"We will stay."

* * *

The days and weeks that followed were perhaps the strangest of Kanda's life – the Ark was unlike any city he had ever seen before, and it wasn't just the fact that it was made from ice. With the exception of the grey-skinned family and the Ice King himself, everyone in the city seemed so lifeless – as though they were already dead and gone. Kanda found himself actively seeking Lavi for conversation; something he had been convinced he would never allow.

It wasn't all bad, he supposed. It was quiet and he was rarely disturbed by anyone except the usagi and occasionally, the 'Noah' family, as they liked to be known. The Ice King was often around, and he was easy enough to find; Kanda spent many hours in his presence, either trying to convince him to give up the crown or simply remaining silent – Kanda never spoke about himself, and the King never offered anything. In fact, Kanda was almost convinced that he couldn't speak until he was spoken to.

"Why?"

Kanda spun around, his eyes widening at the soft voice; there was no inflection that suggested the owner was truly curious, but even so, the fact that the King had spoken first was shocking. They had been sitting beside one another meditating with their eyes closed and their palms resting on their knees.

"Why what?" Kanda asked, frowning slightly, his confusion evident. There was a slight pause, and Kanda thought that he saw a brief flash of something on the King's face, before it was gone again.

"Why do you desire my crown so much? Why is it so important to you?" He asked finally, his brow creasing as he struggled to understand Kanda's motivations.

Kanda sighed, closing his eyes and resting his head in the palm of his hand.

"Lenalee, the next Duchess of Nacitav, will not consent to marry me unless I bring the crown back for her. She has been putting off the wedding for as long as she can, and I suppose that this was the best she could think of. A last resort, I guess."

"You must truly love her, for you to go to such lengths," the King mused slowly, and Kanda thought he heard... something in the King's voice. Nostalgia, maybe?

Kanda laughed, though there was no amusement in the sound. "Actually, I think of her as my sister. It is not me she loves; it is my companion, Lavi. Our marriage was arranged, and that is all there is to it."

The King took his time digesting this new information. Kanda remained silent, leaving him to his thoughts. "Then why is it so important that you collect my crown and thus gain her hand in marriage? Why do you not simply leave her to her lover and move on?"

"My family is poor – we need the money or we will all starve," Kanda explained. "By marrying into nobility, I could make sure that we all live comfortably for the rest of our lives. I do not want my family to die when there is something I can do to prevent it, no matter how much they irritate me." The King nodded slowly.

"Your family; what are they like?"

And so the conversation continued.

After that, the King would often listen to Kanda speak about his life, and eventually, he began to open up. Admittedly, he still spoke very little, but piece by piece, Kanda started to realise precisely why the Ark was so strange and silent. Kanda learned that the King was once human, though he remembered nothing about his life before; he had to rely on accounts from some of the older souls. And the residents of the Ark, apart from the King, Kanda, Lavi and the Noah were all lost souls. The crown that the King so closely guarded was made from ice and their tears; the King explained that that was what gave it such ethereal beauty.

There were times when Kanda would fall asleep beside the King, still sitting up – he found that he couldn't sleep in the cavernous chambers he had been assigned. Often, he would wake to find his head in the King's lap, whilst the boy in question stared off into the distance with a pensive expression. It was a far cry from the apathetic ruler that Kanda had first met, and he thought that he could see a change in the city as well – the lights seemed to glow a little brighter, whilst the occupants moved with more purpose, more vitality.

One night, when Kanda awoke in a cold sweat from a nightmare he could not remember, it was to the feeling of cold, soothing fingers running through his hair. He turned his face slightly to meet the King's pale eyes. He thought that he saw something in them, for a moment, before it was gone, leaving him feeling empty and even colder than before.

"It is late," the King murmured, the gentle hands never faltering. "Go back to sleep." He smiled, for the first time that Kanda could remember, fragile and strained. It looked to be painful, almost a grimace, but it was there.

And in that moment, the frosty mask the King constructed for himself began to crack and flake.

* * *

It was two weeks later that something finally gave. It couldn't continue, of course it couldn't, and Kanda thought that he had always known that, even as he lost himself in endless nights of cold skin and blindingly silver eyes. It couldn't last, because all of the stories were true. The Ice King was as cold as the lands he governed, his heart as frozen as the city he had created.

Yet that didn't stop the panic that flooded through him at the sight of his King – his friend, his confidant, his lover – slumped in the throne, his breathing laboured. Yet as he glanced up, his eyes met Kanda's and he smiled – one of his rare, true smiles that could blind a person just as easily as the sun, and oh how ironic it was, Kanda would later reflect, that a King of ice could so successfully melt his own frozen heart.

"Kanda..." he murmured, stretching out to brush his cheek with a cold hand – only it wasn't cold, not anymore, and suddenly the beautiful King looked so frail and so, so human.

"What is happening?" Kanda asked, his voice thick with tears whose existence he would never acknowledge. "What is wrong with you, how can I help?" The King just stared at him for a moment with eyes that shone, grey and not silver, and so full of love that it made Kanda's heart break all over again just to look at them.

"Take it," he rasped, trying to tug the crown from his head and push it into Kanda's unresisting hands. "Take it and save your family, Kanda. I do not need it... Not anymore, not where I am going."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?" Kanda asked. "Of course you need it, you are the Ice King." The smile he received was so beautifully, horrifically broken that it made Kanda want to scream and to kiss his lover all at once. Tears fell from grey, fading eyes, melting the ones that already resided on his cheeks – they fell onto the crown, freezing once again into the clearest diamonds Kanda had ever seen; yet, they didn't matter. All that mattered was his King.

"No..." he began, coughing harshly; blood flecked his white lips, staining them a deep red. Kanda cradled his face gently as the Noah looked on with mournful expressions, as though they had already given up all hope. "An Ice King can reign only for as long as he remains frozen. That is the way it must be."

"Then this is my fault," Kanda whispered, the truth finally beginning to sink in. "This is all my fucking fault!"

"No! Do not think that, never think that. I love you, Kanda, and I could never blame you for this. No matter what happens, this is not your fault," the King whispered, his voice fading at times. Kanda shook his head, his vision clouded no matter how many times he blinked, the tears now falling over his cheeks. "Go home, and make sure that all of this," he gestured weakly between them. "Was not for nothing."

Kanda nodded once, unable to speak as he watched the life – so new, so fresh – drain slowly from his lover's eyes. The tears didn't stop their relentless flowing, and Kanda gripped the crown so hard that he feared it might break.

_I never even knew his fucking name._

* * *

When Kanda's body was finally found, it was by the search party led by Lavi – he had returned home only a day before the King's death, and had immediately called for all of the available men to be sent out to find Lenalee's fiancé. The expression on his face was oddly peaceful, unlike the scowl he had worn in life, and in his hands he clutched a worn and rusted metal circlet; Lavi frowned, recognising it as the crown of the Ice King, yet uncertain as to what exactly had happened in such a short time.

Later, when they searched the body, they would find many things. White feathers from an unknown bird sewn into his hood, an elegant silver mask of unfamiliar design, crystalline flowers, a small blue orb that would hover and glow when night fell, and a locket that was frozen shut.

All that Lavi noticed were the two tears frozen to Kanda's cheeks like perfect, twin diamonds.

* * *

**(1) - yeah, it's Vatican spelled backwards. I was feeling lazy.**  
**(2) - creative, huh? XD**

**See you guys tomorrow!**


	4. Addiction

**I've just realised - all this time and I have yet to add a disclaimer: allow me to remedy that.**

**I tried to ask Katsura Hoshino to give me D. Gray-man, but she set black Allen on me. Won't be making that mistake again.**

**Day four, prompt four: Addiction**

* * *

Drugs were dangerous. Allen knew that, and he had never questioned it, not when he was almost drowning in painkillers to ease the ache in his empty chest, nor when he took so many sleeping pills that he began to wonder if he would ever wake up. He knew they were dangerous, and that was why, in part, he insisted on taking them. That sense of danger, of knowing that they might kill him if he wasn't careful; it was what he lived for. After the death of Mana, Allen felt as though he had died too. His heart curled up deep inside his chest, vehemently rejecting any and all attempts to reach it. It was as though it had stopped beating, and there were times when Allen couldn't feel it at all.

That was, in part, why he had agreed to become an Exorcist. When he fought the Akuma, his cursed eye throbbing and adrenaline pounding through his veins, Allen felt more alive than he could ever remember. Mana had taught him what it felt like to be alive, but to find and experience that feeling again; Allen was resorting to more and more desperate measures. It was all about the thrill, he told himself. It wasn't because he was addicted – he had something far more effective and reliable for that.

Kanda was so easily angered, so predictable in his reactions and biting retorts. The blood rushed through Allen's body at a thousand miles an hour, it seemed, and when the two finally came to blows, it was a high that Allen had never felt before – not when he was fleeing for his life from one of the many debt collectors, nor when he was battling the Akuma.

At first he had thought that it was simply his reaction to fighting another with Innocence – however, training with Lavi and Lenalee proved that theory to be incorrect, and eventually Allen realised that it had nothing to do with the fact that he was fighting an Exorcists, and more to do with the fact that he was fighting Kanda.

It was a habit, an addiction, something that he relied on more than the drugs, more than the smiles of his friends; he realised that that was probably extremely unhealthy, but he couldn't help it. He needed the fights, the arguments, the banter, if only to keep him reasonably sane when the entire world felt as though it was falling apart around him. It was the one indulgence he allowed himself to keep after Cross's revelation, and it seemed that even Link tolerated it – though that may have been because the two of them would likely tear apart the entire Order if they couldn't regularly take their frustrations out on one another.

It was quite simple, really. Allen relied on Kanda, on his presence and his solidarity.

He was addicted, and that was all there was to it.

* * *

Kanda wasn't sure how it had started – any of it – but start it had, and now he found that he just couldn't bring himself to let go. In general, Kanda didn't like to rely on anything other than himself –and even that was beginning to fail him at times – because to rely on something was to admit weakness and dependency. If there was one thing that Kanda was not, it was weak. So why was it that without the medicines prescribed by Komui, he couldn't sleep? Why was it that he needed more and more of those strange serums the scientists kept creating to make sure that his regenerative rate remained high?

Why was it that he went back to the moyashi time after time to satisfy his need for a decent fight?

Kanda didn't want to have to rely on others, especially not a weak little moyashi. However, after so many hours of training, he had come to realise that the moyashi wasn't as weak as he had first thought – and not just physically. There was an unusual steel in his eyes, a certain determination about him. He never failed a mission, yet he still had the time and the compassion to care for every Akuma, every human that he met. There was pain in his eyes, buried so deep that at first Kanda had convinced himself he was seeing only a reflection of himself in the boy.

However, as time went on, Kanda began to see the cracks in the moyashi's perfectly constructed mask. He saw the dark circles beneath silver eyes, the strained smiles – and, when he walked past the moyashi's room at night (not because he was worried, of course not. Kanda didn't worry about people) he could hear the screams that filtered from under the door.

The two of them were alike in many ways and different in even more. They handled themselves in different ways and reacted in different ways, but in the end they were both doing the same thing.

They were both running away.

* * *

At first, Allen had felt the effects of his sudden withdrawal with stunning clarity. All of a sudden, his mind was clear, free of the strange haze that had kept him sane for so long, and it both terrified and pained him. It was only the near-constant presence, oddly enough, of the Fourteenth's shadow that kept him in his right mind. It was the thought that, should he allow himself to become unaware once more, then the Fourteenth would take advantage of that.

Endless hours were spent shivering and sweating, with Link looking on impassively, or his friends huddled around him, unsure of how to react. For the most part, there was always one who would take him in their arms and shush him, stroking his hair with panicked fingers whilst they desperately questioned Link as to what was happening.

He never told them.

Yet, there was one instance that would always stand out to him, no matter how many times he suffered the same thing. In the training room, he had simply toppled from his sitting position by the sidelines, wrapping his arms around himself miserably. The shaking was not as bad as it was usually, but he no doubt looked to be a state. Link was off reporting to Leverrier, or whatever it was he liked to do on his rare days off, so Allen had been left on his own.

So, he was stunned when he felt arms wrap around him, soothing and warm. Even less expected was the rough voice that accompanied them, but then again, why should Allen be surprised. There was only one other person crazy enough to come and train and four in the morning.

"Baka." Kanda. It was always Kanda, wasn't it? "Why do you keep on like this? Get help from Komui or something. He'd be more than happy to, and you know it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Allen managed through gritted teeth. "I'm probably just coming down with something, that's all." More violent shudders wracked his body and he felt Kanda's arms tighten for a brief moment. However, it was over so quickly that Allen was convinced he must have been imagining it. An after effect of the drugs he had been denying himself, perhaps.

"That's bullshit. You're suffering; I get that, but what happening to the naive, optimistic brat, huh? Grow up and get over yourself, because this isn't helping anything."

Allen managed a strained laugh, pausing only to give Kanda a pained and amused glance. "I suppose you would know, right?"

* * *

Kanda couldn't quite get the moyashi's words out of his head – days later and they were still troubling him. How much did he know, and how much of it was pure guesswork? Kanda knew what was going on with the moyashi; he recognised the signs and it didn't take a genius to put two and two together. The question was, did the moyashi see the same when he looked at Kanda?

He didn't know, and quite frankly, that scared him. Yet, after that, it seemed the moyashi was opening up, and not just to him. The smiles were a little less forced, the light in his eyes more real than Kanda had seen before.

In all fairness, Kanda knew that he was only part of the reason for that. He had noticed the way the moyashi would shrink away from mirrors, and yet he always seemed to be drawn back to them. He noticed how reluctant he was to sleep, though afterwards he would always look like a great weight had been lifted from his chest. He wondered what the Fourteenth was doing to the moyashi; if indeed he was doing anything at all.

Weeks later and a pattern had been forged, a routine of sorts. Those in the know turned a blind eye towards it, because if it kept the two top Exorcists from breaking, then it surely could not be a bad thing. No doubt Central would have them both executed should word ever get out, but who would ever tell them?

Through the long nights of tears and screams, they held one another, secure in the knowledge that they were the same, that even if they could not bring themselves to love one another (they were both far too broken for something like that) then at the very least they could trust each other with this.

Kanda glanced down at the head of white hair that rested against his chest, the moyashi's soft breath tickling his skin as the youngest of the pair slept on, oblivious. He smiled softly; an expression he had decided long ago would be seen by no one but the Exorcist who knew him without even trying.

It may not have been love, but it was a start.


	5. Marionette

**Please bear in mind that this is my first attempt at writing a little limey scene, no matter how non-explicit this is. Although, now I'm wondering, is it okay to keep this as a T or should I change it to an M? I would think that's it's probably okay the way it is, but I don't want to take any chances.**

**Disclaimer: If I've come into ownership of DGM since yesterday, then somebody please tell me. Cause as far as I'm aware, I still don't own it.**

**Day five, promt five: Marionette**

* * *

"Fuck," Kanda groaned, Allen's nails raking down his back and leaving livid red marks in their wake that would be gone by the morning. The moyashi's head rested against his shoulder, their breathing heavy and hearts pounding wildly in synch. This was familiar now, this rhythm and pattern – they repeated it every time they saw one another.

Allen had his legs wrapped firmly around Kanda's waist, keeping them as close to each other as was humanly possible and then some. Kanda had his hands on the moyashi's hips, guiding him though he didn't need it – not in the slightest. The brat was good, Kanda'd give him that much.

"God, Kanda," Allen hissed, his grip tightening briefly, as if by holding Kanda closer he could cling to his sanity for just a little longer. Kanda's eyes were squeezed shut, but he could feel every inch of Allen against him, so the lack of sight didn't matter much – he had long since memorised the moyashi's face. What had started out as a convenient arrangement of two strangers casually fucking had since turned into something else; something that was not quite as easy to define.

They could often find one another, no matter where they were; under other circumstances, they might be suspicious, but they were off duty and frustrated. It was an unspoken agreement between the pair that they would not ask any questions. Besides, they both seemed as confused about it as each other, so they trusted that it wasn't some sort of conspiracy.

In their line of work, something like that was a very real threat.

Kanda grunted, his fingers digging into the pale skin of Allen's hips; the feel of bones that were slender yet so strong was incredible, and Kanda pressed his thumbs into the moyashi's hips just a little harder. Kanda had always admired things that were beautiful and strong – perhaps that was why he had been so drawn to Allen in the first place. Assuming, of course, that Allen was really his name. You could never be too sure these days, and Kanda sure as hell didn't like to give out his real name. It had slipped out a few fucks into their dysfunctional relationship when Allen had oh-so casually asked. Kanda had wanted to kick himself after, but Allen laughed it off with a swift kiss to Kanda's chest, his grin simply delicious.

Allen's vision turned white as he shook, crying out something that neither of them really heard, and slumped onto Kanda, his breathing and heartbeat erratic. Kanda pressed their foreheads together, both of them drenched in sweat. Two sets of hands drifted lazily up and down toned stomachs and chests as the two shared a brief, slightly sloppy kiss.

Allen's pale eyelids had already fluttered shut, and Kanda drew the smaller man impossibly closer, contented for the moment.

* * *

When Allen woke up, he was alone – though that didn't really surprise him. It was quite rare that they would both stick around in the morning. Kanda was probably long gone.

A note had been left on the bedside table that had one leg sellotaped back on after what appeared to have been a drunken rage – Allen could see where the wood had been stained by whatever it was they had been drinking. Damned cheap motels.

_Something came up at work early this morning, so I had to go. See you 'round, moyashi._

Allen smiled slightly at the neat yet hurried handwriting, the curt tone with which it had been written – something that was so typical of Kanda. He sighed, dragging a hand through his matted hair and glancing down disdainfully at himself. He hadn't bothered to clean up last night, and he was desperately in need of a shower.

Pausing on the way to the bathroom, Allen glanced at his own phone, raising an eyebrow when he saw that he had a message, detailing his next job. He tutted and clicked his tongue in an irritated manner, grey eyes quickly scanning the text for anything unusual. There was nothing, just the normal stuff, and Allen snapped his phone shut decisively after wiping it clean. It was too early for this shit.

In a way, he sort of wished that he could be like Kanda – dedicated to his job. As it was, he worked because he hadn't been given much of a choice. He wasn't sure yet what the other man did, but he would find out. Allen didn't like to be out of the loop, and when it came to snooping and digging up information, Allen was a pro. It wasn't like he was going to do anything with the information once he had it; he just wanted to know the guy a bit better. Kanda was intriguing, and Allen wanted to know him inside and out.

_Who's pulling your strings, Kanda?_

His phone rang shrilly, and he picked up after a couple of seconds.

"Hello Tyki."

* * *

The two men were breathing heavily, guns aimed at one another's heads. One's weapon was grafted directly onto his arm, whilst the other carried several weapons separately. They were evenly matched, perfect opposites and opponents.

Their eyes met for the first time since they had started this long campaign against one another. In the background, their employers watched with shadowed eyes, wondering what the two would do next and how best to turn events in their favour. Eventually, there was a sigh.

"Fourteenth, stand down," called the Earl, grin spread wide across his face. "I think that's quite enough for now." There was a slight pause in which neither man moved, their gazes locked, before the smaller of the two took a step back, his arm shifting as the gun was encased in smooth black metal once again.

"Second Exorcist, stand down," called Leverrier. The taller man did so immediately. The Earl stepped forward to warp a warm arm around Fourteenth. He chuckled indulgently at the confused and horrified looks the Black Order commander was giving him, his best soldier standing stiff and at attention beside him. The Second Exorcist watched them with dark eyes, face hidden.

"Well, this has been more fun than we anticipated," the Earl laughed. "It's been a while since my darling Fourteenth had someone decent to fight, hasn't it my dear?" There was no reply, verbal or otherwise from the soldier. "I'm quite impressed you managed to come up with something like this, Leverrier."

"We won't spare any expense when it comes to killing you and all of your followers," Leverrier snapped, which made the Earl pout.

"Now that's not very nice, is it dear?" He asked, petting the Fourteenth's head like some overgrown dog. Predictably, there was no response. "Still, I suppose we'd best be on our way, hm? Come on Rhode, Tyki, Lu. As for you, little Fourteenth dear... We'll leave you to finish playing with this Second Exorcist – you looked like you were having so much fun earlier!"

* * *

"Should've known," Kanda snorted. "The Fourteenth was too much of a beansprout to be anyone but you. The way we were always meeting. All the secrecy – fuck! So it was the Earl all along, the one who was pulling your strings?"

"Yeah."

There was a pause.

"See you tonight in the motel?"

"... Yeah."


	6. War

**I think that this is the shortest installment yet for my Yullen week oneshots; I wanted to do a more introspective piece from Kanda's point of view. Not too sure how well I managed it - I'll let you guys be the judge of that, I suppose! Not to mention I got a little bit stuck with this prompt; it surprised me, actually, because when I first read and thought about the prompts, I thought that this would be one of the easiest to do. Well, whatever. On with the Yullen, I guess.**

**Disclaimer: ch'yeah, no.**

**Day six, prompt six: war (and there're also hints of sacrifice - two prompts in one!)**

* * *

They (that was, the Exorcists) were not unused to fighting – they were all perfectly prepared to fight and die for the sake of their God. At least, that was what they all believed; when it came down to it, in the midst of a fight, God was the last thing on their minds. They worried about their lives, about their friends, and the Akuma. Religion and faith held no place on a battlefield.

Kanda understood that better than anyone. He didn't put his faith in someone he couldn't see, didn't like to so blindly turn himself over to an all-powerful being whose existence he wasn't sure he believed in. He may work for the Church, but he'd never been to a single fucking service in his life, and he wasn't too sure why he was starting now – it definitely had nothing to do with the brat or the fact that he had been sent out on a solo mission without even his stalker for company.

In Kanda's opinion, that most likely meant that they weren't expecting him to come back, and fuck it all if that didn't make his chest burn.

He understood that in war, there couldn't be victory without sacrifices, no matter which side you fought for. Something like that had never really troubled him, though the brat had torn himself up about it every time he couldn't save one of those precious souls. Yet now, thinking that the moyashi – _his_ moyashi – might become the sacrifice he had so proudly claimed to be on their first mission just... ripped him apart from the inside out.

So there he was, sitting in a fucking freezing church with his hands clasped together in some semblance of prayer. He refused to close his eyes because he wasn't going to be caught off guard by anything, be it Akuma, the usagi or one of the chief's fucked-up robots.

It was draughty in the church, and Kanda shivered, wishing for a thicker jumper, or his long uniform coat. He hated it in the church – it was so big and imposing, it almost managed to make him feel intimidated. That in itself was enough of a reason to hate it, but there were more. He hated the way it always smelled musty and empty, no matter how many people there were in there; the way the high vaulted ceiling and stained glass windows portrayed a Heaven that wouldn't open its gates to someone like him, soldier of God or no. Maybe it was because it reminded him of the fucking hypocrites he was working for, or maybe it was because there was a certain moyashi who spent half of his time in there, praying to a God who had given him the shittiest deal of all.

Kanda felt the smallest of grimaces settle onto his face at the thought – who knew what sort of Hell the kid had been through, and still faced. There was the entire debacle with the Fourteenth Noah that meant he had now been branded a potential traitor, losing his Innocence and getting it back, being apprenticed to _Cross_ (Kanda had only met the bastard a couple of times, and that was enough for him).

Allen was the Destroyer of Time; their saviour, the boy who would finally kill the Millennium Earl once and for all. It was a heavy title to bear, and Kanda's shoulders slumped just thinking about it. He couldn't imagine what that sort of responsibility had done to a fifteen year old boy who should still be in school, living with his parents.

The war had taken even that from him, it seemed. He could remember, on one of their countless missions together, the moyashi confiding in him, how he had been left by his parents at a young age to fend for himself on the streets, all because of his arm, his _deformity_ (Kanda could remember being shocked by the venom in his voice as he spoke that word, and wanted to reassure the boy though he had no idea how to go about such a thing). How determined he had then been to never place his trust in another human being. It had seemed impossible to Kanda, incomprehensible even, that such a paranoid and distrustful young boy had grown to be the smiling, caring Exorcist that everyone loved. He had asked about it, casually, not wanting to tip the boy off to his growing curiosity. Allen had seen through it, he was sure, but he also kept up the act with an easy shrug and a faraway smile.

'_I met Mana, and he taught me how to live again, how to keep walking,'_ the sprout had said, and Kanda still doesn't understand it, even to this day. Keep walking? How could they keep walking when everything and everyone conspired to knock them back? How were they supposed to remember how to live when all around them was death?

That mission was also memorable for another reason – it was the first time he had kissed the moyashi. Or at least, he assumed that it counted as a kiss; alright, so the sprout had been fast asleep at the time, and maybe it had only lasted a few seconds because Kanda was worried that he might wake the moyashi up if it was any longer. He wasn't quite sure why the urge to kiss the sprout was so strong – perhaps it was because he had finally started to open and be honest with his comrade, rather than brushing everything off with that stupid fake smile.

It was the first time Kanda had kissed Allen, but it wasn't the last – a couple of times had been accidental (and he used the term very loosely, as he was sure that Lavi had somehow been involved).

Well, either way, the moyashi was still oblivious; it was a wonder to him how someone so attentive to the feelings of others managed to be so blind. He had considered going to Lavi or Lenalee for advice, when he realised that that might cause more problems than it solved.

Kanda sat back in the pew, resting his head against the carved wooden headrest and stared up at the ceiling. His thoughts wandered, to places that were inappropriate in almost any situation, never mind a church. Then again, Kanda had never much cared for propriety or anything – and when it came to the moyashi, all rules were void anyway. A sigh escaped his lips and he considered for the thousandth time going to Komui to ask when the moyashi would be back. The stupid scientist probably wouldn't give him a straight answer, but Reever or someone else halfway sane might be there to answer his question.

Kanda stood slowly and stretched, wincing as his joint popped. His legs had gone numb from sitting on the hard wooden pews for too long and he could feel a headache building behind his eyes – he was probably dedicating far too much thought to the subject of the moyashi, but he just couldn't help himself. The beansprout was interesting.

Glancing around to make sure that there was no one else in the church to see him, Kanda walked to the side of the room where there was a tall stand stacked with candles, just waiting to be lit. He picked one up that hadn't already been used and touched it to the lit candle until a single, wavering flame caught, lighting up his face from beneath. He shut his eyes, lips moving in silent prayer, fingers gripping the candle so hard it was a miracle the wax didn't snap in half.

_Let the moyashi come home. This war has claimed too many lives already._


	7. Eternity

_Allen followed his foster father as quickly as his little legs allowed, his stride unsteady and uneven. Several times, he tripped over his own two feet, ending up face-down in the snow. Every time, he stood again, brushing himself off, and hurrying to catch up to Mana, his face split into a broad, toothy grin. He'd never been accepted by anyone before, and he was determined to never let this man go. Mana was the closest thing he's ever had to a family, and he knew that he had to make sure it lasted forever, just like in the stories Mana read to him at bedtime. _

_Small limbs quaked as Allen tried to hold in his shivers, the winter gales blowing straight through his many layers of clothing. He gasped when he felt a pair of large, warm arms wrap around him, picking him up from the ground and placing him on a broad back, where it was warm and sheltered from the wind. _

_A large smile spread across Allen's face as he wrapped short arms around Mana's neck, his left hand covered by a large green mitten, his right by a simple woollen glove. He pressed his face into Mana's shoulder to protect his eyes and nose from the wind, his shivers gradually lessening as he warmed up. The little boy had never felt so contented, despite knowing that the next town was still a couple of hours away. He yawned quietly; hiding it behind his hand like Mana had taught him. Mana was teaching him lots of things, like manners and how to read and write. Things Allen had never dreamed he might be able to do._

"_Thank you, Mana," Allen said tiredly, and despite being half-asleep, he would always remember what Mana said to him next._

"_You're welcome, Allen," the clown smiled. "I'll always be here for you."_

_And Allen believed him._

* * *

"Hey, Mana." A pause. "It's been a while, hasn't it? I'm sorry I haven't been to see you recently. Things have been really hectic around here lately; what with university and going back and forth to the doctors, and well... you know. There isn't really much to tell you since last time," Allen broke off, coughing harshly into a handkerchief. All else was silent for a moment, as though the very elements were waiting for Allen to continue. "Remember how I used to tell you how you'd be the only person I'd ever love?" Allen paused as though waiting for an answer, though he knew that one would never come.

"Well, that's not quite true anymore. Do you remember Froi Tiedoll? I think Cross introduced you two a couple of times. His son, Kanda... well he and I... uh, we're sort of an item now." Allen fidgeted from foot to foot, his hands playing nervously with the hem of his coat. "That doesn't... bother you, right? That I'm in love with a man? I don't think you're the sort of person who would be bothered by that, but I wanted to check."

A soft breeze played around Allen's face comfortingly, and he thought that he could hear a soft, indulgent chuckle. "I know, I know. As long as I'm happy, right? When you died, I didn't think I'd ever be happy again. You broke your promise, you know. You promised that you'd always be there for me, and then a few days later you died.

"I felt so betrayed, Mana. I was young, and I didn't really understand death. I'd never had to face it or really come across it before, and suddenly you were gone forever. Maybe you're still there for me, waiting in the afterlife – I don't know. But right then, at your funeral, I'd never been more hurt, because you'd promised that you'd always be there for me, and suddenly you weren't anymore." A gentle wind caressed his face like an apology, and Allen smiled sadly, his tears long since dried up.

"I probably look really stupid right now, standing here talking to a grave. But I wanted you to know what was going on; I think you deserve to know about your son's life, whether it was me or Neah you really saw when you looked at me. Either way, I still consider you my father, and I think my father would want to know that I'm... you know. You'd really like Kanda, Mana – he's rough around the edges, but he's a really good person once you get to know him, and I love him more than anything, apart from you of course. He's actually a bit like I was when you first found me. It's a shame you're not here to work your magic on him like you did me," Allen chuckled, and the breeze seemed to laugh along.

Allen coughed again, bent over almost double for a few minutes, before he finally stood up straight again, wrapping his scarf around his neck a few more times. The cold was getting to him, and he was beginning to wonder if this was really such a good idea after all.

He didn't notice the dark figure that stood several yards away, watching and listening, until he walked forwards, snow crunching beneath the heavy boots. Warm arms wrapped around Allen's waist, gentle lips at his ear, and Allen leaned back into the comforting warmth, Kanda's chest solid and wonderfully real against his back. He could feel his boyfriend pressing kisses to his hair and cheek, and turned around in Kanda's arms to hug him back, knowing how rare this open display of affection was from the older boy. He wanted to make the most of it while he could.

Allen didn't realise he was crying until warm fingers brushed his tears away – he thought it was odd, as he'd been convinced that he'd run out of tears to cry years ago. Kanda murmured something to him in Japanese, but Allen's knowledge of the language was severely limited, and he only understood a couple of the words.

"Baka usagi said you'd be here," Kanda finally said, after a few more minutes of silence. Allen nodded silently, burying his face in Kanda's chest so that he wouldn't embarrass himself any further. "Why are you even outside in this weather? You're just getting over a bout of the flu, baka moyashi; you should be inside, in the warm..." Kanda trailed off when Allen shook his head.

"I wanted to come and see Mana," Allen whispered, clutching Kanda's shirt like a lifeline. "I always worry that he might get lonely this time of year."

He'd expected Kanda to laugh at him for being so stupid, or at least scoff and say something cynical – but he did nothing of the sort. He just nodded, slipping his arms from around Allen's waist, leaving the young man feeling cold and empty. To Allen's great surprise, however, Kanda stepped up to Mana's grave and bowed his head respectfully. Allen could hear him talking to the grave in hushed tones, but could hear what he said. A wind picked up, gentle and surprisingly warm for this time of year, and Kanda smiled one of his small, rare smiles, stepping back and taking hold of Allen's hand.

"What did you say?" Allen asked curiously, and Kanda chuckled, lacing their fingers together.

"I said that I promised I would love you for eternity and always and be there for you – I think your dad likes me now," he said, and Allen's face stiffened slightly, before relaxing into a sad smile.

"Don't make promises you can't keep, baKanda," Allen whispered, and Kanda shot a concerned glance at him before squeezing his hand, a smirk creeping across his lips and into his eyes.

"You know me, moyashi. I'd never do such a thing."

* * *

**Oh God, the fluff! It burns! I couldn't help myself, guys. As to why the author's note is at the bottom rather than the top as per usual... actually, I don't know. I just felt like it today.**

**Okay, I am SO SORRY this is late. Please forgive me peoples! I have no excuses, so feel free to flame me - it might warm up my hands and feet a bit :P Anyway, moving swiftly onward, I have an important question to ask all of you readers out there.**

**I am considering (and at the moment, it IS only a thought) extending these various AU and canon stories into a series of oneshots. Not multi-chapter stories, 'cause I never seem to finish them. But a series of stand-alone oneshots, where it doesn't matter if I don't really continue, well. That's a whole other story. (LOL, I made an unintentional pun)**

**So, my question is this; if I did continue these, would you guys want to read them? And do you have any suggestions, etc.? (Alright, that was more than one question. So sue me.)**

**Leave your answers in the reviews I will hopefully get :) (Pwease?)**

**Oh, and also - this story is DISCLAIMED, bitch.**


	8. Attention everyone

Attention everyone who has read, favourited, alerted and reviewed this story – the promised oneshot series has officially begun! You can find it on my page under the title 'We All Fall Down' (or you could just search for it XD) – this name may be later changed, if I can think of a better title. Any suggestions will be welcomed with open arms, both for the stories (because heavens knows I need prompts) or for the title :P The first oneshot has been posted, and since it seemed to be the most popular candidate for continuation, the first of (hopefully!) quite a few oneshots is in the 'yearn' universe.

Thank you to all of you who have supported me throughout 'The Magnet Theory' – it's been a blast, and I hope to see you in 'We All Fall Down'!


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